


The Durin Partriach

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU mostly though, Affairs, Blow Jobs, Canonical Death of Frodo's Parents, Class Differences, Classist Remarks made by Thorin, Dark!Thorin, Dubious Consent, Forced Relationship, Kidnapping, M/M, Mafia AU, Minor Character Death, Modern human AU, Power Imbalance, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-20 08:26:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From what Thorin said, he’d seen Bilbo and it had been “love at first sight”. Bilbo knew the truth, however. He had committed the “crime” of being attractive in front of the wrong person at the wrong time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thorin's behavior in this fic is going to be really gross and wrong.

It was always a bad day when his husband wanted to talk. He didn’t know what it would be about this time, though he suspected that like usual it would be about work. Sometimes he didn’t even understand why his husband even talked about it to him; mostly, he was in the dark about what happened, and in all truths, both he and Thorin preferred to keep it that way.

“Go watch your movie, Frodo.” Bilbo spoke to his little boy. He patted him on the head, causing his dark, curly hair to become even messier.

“But Daddy, you said you’d watch it with me!’ Frodo said.

Thorin leaned down and messed up Frodo’s hair even more than Bilbo had. “He and I are busy tonight. We have some important things to discuss. I promise that tomorrow night we’ll take you out for ice cream, alright?”

Frodo brightened. “Really?”

Thorin nodded. “Really.”

Frodo hugged him. “Thanks, Adad!’

Thorin held the toddler close. “You’re welcome, Frodo.” He kissed the top of his head. “Now be a good boy, alright?”

Frodo nodded. “Good night, Adad.”

“Good night, Frodo.”

Once Thorin released him, Frodo hugged Bilbo. “Good night, Daddy.”

Bilbo pulled the boy close. “Sweet dreams, Frodo. And don’t stay up too late, alright?” He wasn’t sure if he’d be seeing the boy after this that night. It bothered him, having one of the servants tuck his own little boy into bed. Bilbo was supposed to be there for him, not some person practically forced to work for Thorin.

Frodo nodded, and then ran off to his room.

Thorin wrapped an arm around Bilbo’s shoulders and pulled him to his study. They didn’t speak a single word.

When he saw Fili and Kili sitting in front of Thorin’s desk, their backs as straight as pieces of wood, did he realize just how serious things were. Great, maybe this would add onto another of Thorin’s precautions. Despite being a target since he and Thorin were so close (the idea made Bilbo want to laugh), he hadn’t once been harmed by any of Thorin’s enemies. Maybe it was because Thorin kept such a tight leash.

Thorin sat down in his large plush civil chair, and pointed to a smaller chair that he’d placed beside it. Bilbo sat and looked over at Thorin’s nephews. They had on serious faces, but he could see fear in their eyes. Even they knew that this wasn’t going to be fun, and Thorin treated them nothing like he did Bilbo.

“Well,” Bilbo said after they all sat in silence for a moment, “are we going to die?”

Thorin laughed, causing the two boys to go pale. This was definitely going to be a strange conversation. “No, but the boys might think so.”

They both looked at each other for an answer, but both just gave the other a confused look. If this was about the boys then why was Bilbo even here? It wasn’t like they were his responsibility. The boys were good enough, but it wasn’t like he had any power over him. They only listened to him because they knew that if they didn’t Thorin would bite their heads off about it.

Thorin’s face hardened. “I heard about the cake incident.”

Bilbo had heard about it. Apparently they were supposed to have cake for dessert that night, but Fili and Kili had been messing around in the kitchen and had dropped the entire thing. Instead, the head chef, Bombur, had been forced to make a quick batch of brownies. They’d been delicious, and Bilbo had taken a little more than seconds, but Bombur’s cake was to die for.

He clenched his fists. “Do you know how rude that was? How immature that was? You two are eighteen and sixteen years old, old enough to take over my business if I needed to. If something happened to me then it would be left to you two!”

Bilbo didn’t say anything. He still couldn’t understand why he was here.

“Well-” Kili said, but never finished because his brother shot him a look.

Thorin put his hands together. “And that is why I’m changing things. It was wrong of me to assume that you two could do anything. Therefore, the business is going to your mother if something happens to me, and until she saw fit otherwise, the business would be going to Frodo. He is my new heir.”

Bilbo didn’t know who asked “What?” faster, him or the two brothers. So this was why he was here.

“It’s only natural.” Thorin said, placing a hand on Bilbo’s leg to keep him from overreacting. As always, it angered Bilbo. “He is my son and you’re only my nephews, and he has shown far more responsibility than you two have.”

“Thorin,” Bilbo said, “he’s only four years old!”

“Like I said, Dis would inherit it first. I’d thought that you two would be responsible and I could leave the business to you two, but this is modern times. My sister certainly can do much more than you two can. It’s hard to believe that you two are related to her, let alone you two to me.”

If Bilbo weren’t used to Thorin’s disgusting behavior then he would be shocked. He would’ve spoken up, but Thorin wouldn’t listen to anything Bilbo had to say about his nephews.

“Uncle,” Fili said, “how can you make such a judgment? As Bilbo said, Frodo is in preschool.”

Thorin cleared his throat. “When you two were four years old you were drawing on the wall. He’s responsible enough to use paper.” Bilbo couldn’t see where Thorin was going with this. “Although children are expected to be mischievous, he is an obedient little boy who would do anything to make his fathers proud. The boy knows how to handle situations better than you two and he’s a fourth of your ages. He causes trouble very rarely, and when he does he is scrambling to apologize. There’s a reason that he spends very little time with his cousins, and that’s not just because you two live with Dis.”

Bilbo spoke. “Do we even have Frodo’s consent in this?” Thorin would listen to him about this. The responsibility for the boy was between the two. “A few days ago he said he wanted to be a superhero. Why are you expecting so much out of him, especially now? He loves to draw; I wouldn’t be surprised if a few years down the road he became an artist rather than the head of the fucking mob.”

Thorin laughed. “You’re still using that term?”

Bilbo crossed his arms over his chest. “Does that matter right now? What matters is that you’re trying to make my little boy the leader of criminal activities.”

“I’ll admit, some of what we do isn’t exactly legal,” Thorin said, “and you’ve always known that.”

“I know,” Bilbo said. “I’m fine with you doing it, but Frodo?”

Thorin raised an eyebrow. “Then what do you want the boy to do?”

“As cliché as this sounds, follow his dreams. I’m not having you decide his future.”

“Bilbo, you know how serious this job is for me, and I still have free time for your and our son. If he wanted to pursue something else, such as art, then I’m sure that he could still find the time. You know that I still have time for music as well.” Bilbo had certainly been surprised when he’d learned that the man who had forced him into a relationship and ran the city’s criminal underworld could also sing beautifully and play the harp. “This can just be the family job, and the job that he’s more likely to succeed in. I want to make sure that my little boy has money. What’s wrong with that?”

Bilbo knew by then that it was pointless. It wasn’t as though he could exactly stop Thorin when he set his mind to something; Bilbo didn’t have that power.

“Fine,” Bilbo said, “but you aren’t going to overwork him like you did your nephews. I won’t stand for it.”

Thorin nodded. “I understand your concern. And there is nothing to worry about, he will only be taught a few years from now. He is only four.”

And then the conversation was over. There was nothing else that could be said; Thorin was too stubborn to let anything else get to him. Bilbo could just be glad with what he got.

-

He had figured that Thorin would give up on him once he lost his looks and got old. In the five years that Bilbo had known Thorin, his appearance had barely changed. He might have gained a few pounds here and there, but overall he looked exactly the same he had when he was twenty-three. He’d been young and inexperienced; Thorin had been only three years older than Bilbo and yet he’d known far more and had better connections, not to mention more money. Even though Bilbo was still young, almost nothing had changed. There were at least signs that someone was slightly older, but he had none.

“Bilbo, are you nearly done?” Thorin called. “I need some time with you alone.”

Bilbo had already finished brushing his teeth and was just staring at himself in the mirror. “A few more moments, please!” He stared at himself a little longer and then left the bathroom. 

Back in their shared bedroom, Thorin was on their bed pointing out a space for him. He was dressed in nothing but his cotton boxers, his long, dark hair covering part of his chest. Bilbo was dressed in thin, very thin red silk pajamas. A few years before he never would’ve owned such a thing; now this kind of thing filled his wardrobe.

Bilbo laid down next to Thorin. It was sickening how easily their bodies clicked together. A few years before, Thorin had commonly remarked about it, as if that would bring comfort to Bilbo. It still bothered Bilbo, but he had more or less accepted his fate.

Thorin ran a finger along his forehead. “You’ve been spending so much time with Frodo these days. I just want some time alone with you again.” He leaned down for a kiss. After a while, Thorin managed to pry open the small opening between Bilbo’s lips and the kiss deepened.

This was the man who had threatened him, dragged him into the underworld, and had forced him to start a relationship with him. Bilbo felt bad for doing this, but there was nothing else that he could do.

From what Thorin said, he’d seen Bilbo and it had been “love at first sight”. Bilbo knew the truth, however. He had committed the “crime” of being attractive in front of the wrong person at the wrong time. If he’d known what would have happened, he would’ve stayed at home and not went out for a walk.

It had started with letters. Bilbo had gone to the police about them, many having a threatening nature. They had all said there was nothing that they could do about it. Thorin had bought them and demanded that they do nothing.

Then he’d started getting visits with Thorin explaining what he wanted. He was blunt. Bilbo had tried to do everything he could to get out, but Thorin had worked the world against him. He couldn’t sell his house and move. The bank wouldn’t let him borrow that much money from his own bank account. He went to every gun store for miles and tried to apply for a license but everyone refused (it was only later that Bilbo learned that Thorin had connections with all of the gun store owners, even the ones who worked for larger chains). The police wouldn’t help him.

Slowly, Thorin had become more demanding. Bilbo had eventually caved in out of fear.

Now? Now Bilbo just lived with it. It wasn’t as though he could stop Thorin.

Whatever Thorin wanted, he got.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Frodo and also Thorin being an asshole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad that so many people like this fic. Here's the second chapter.

Frodo ate as much as Bilbo normally did. It seemed Baggins, even former ones, loved to eat. Bilbo and Frodo had been blessed with the ability to barely gain a pound, which Thorin loved to point out to the point where Bilbo become irritated.

Frodo was on his third bowl of ice cream. He was dressed in his usual wear, a T-shirt with some sort of child friendly image on it and shorts. Unlike Bilbo, he didn’t have to walk around showing off money. Bilbo, even dressed in business casual, held an air of wealth to him, just what Thorin wanted him to have. Thorin sat next to him, eating a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream. He too was dressed more casually than usual, but one look and you’d know that he had money. One hand was on Bilbo’s leg, rubbing circles onto him with his thumb. Bilbo ate neatly just like Thorin did.

In a few years his son would be expected to do the most outrageous things for a child. Sure Thorin hopefully wouldn’t overwork him like he had his nephews, but the expectations set on Frodo would be ungodly. He hoped to Yavanna that his son would enjoy eating ice cream and staining his T-shirt while he still could.

Frodo was busy chattering away about his day. He was excited, discussing his “adventures”, which consisted of watching some educational videos, reading some stories, and declaring that when he grew up he would become an explorer who found elves. Thorin was smirking at the boy, following along his every word. There was a light inside of Frodo and Bilbo knew that Thorin couldn’t wait to extinguish it.

Bilbo couldn’t taste what he was eating. What was the flavor he’d ordered again? Maybe it was chocolate, but his mind was hazy. Or it could have been vanilla. Still, he and Frodo ate two full bowls’ worth.

Bilbo watched his son eat. His husband had admitted to planning on making him into his heir. Bilbo had seen how he’d treated his nephews. The unreasonable expectations, giving them almost no time to be real teenage boys, and acting as though they were useless unless they met every single one of his requirements. If he even tried that with Frodo…

But there was a reason that Thorin had chosen him, and Bilbo knew it went beyond the fact that he was Thorin’s son. It was because Frodo adored him. Bilbo had been the one against adopting Frodo after the boy’s parents’ unexpected, premature death. He hadn’t wanted Frodo pulled into this life. But Thorin had set his mind on it and Bilbo had become a father (because Thorin had been against the “Uncle Bilbo and Thorin” idea). Frodo adored Thorin. The fact haunted Bilbo. Yes, Frodo loved Bilbo, but Thorin was obviously his favorite. Thorin gave Frodo whatever he wanted, spent time with him (though never near as much as Bilbo), and had done everything else he could to make the boy happy. Sometimes, Bilbo would at least be glad that nothing had ever happened to his son (though he swore that if something did he would get out, though he didn’t know how), and that at least with Thorin’s income Frodo had a good life.

But some part of him regretted thinking that, especially then. Within a few years it would be expected for Frodo to regularly wear a suit, to learn all the tips and tricks of running the city’s underground, and to get involved in criminal activities. In a few years he was going to be seeing a perfectly modeled miniature Thorin, because he knew his husband wouldn’t make Frodo anything less, who would always get what he wanted.

Bilbo usually didn’t imagine an older Frodo. He lived for the moment, mostly because he didn’t want to think about his future and how it was everything that he had never wanted (or expected) it to be. It had just gotten even worse.

-

Thorin’s first visit had been unexpected. Bilbo had been baking some cookies, trying to calm himself. The letters had recently stopped, so he thought that he was safe. When he’d gotten an unexpected man at the door of his apartment, however, he didn’t know what to think. No one ever came to his apartment to visit, not even people Bilbo did know. It ashamed Bilbo to show that he owned so little. Before his parents had died he’d lived in a big house and his family had lots of money. Once his parents died, his cousins, the Sackville-Bagginses stole his inheritance and sent him off to college. Paying for college, however, was their only financial giving. Once he graduated, they were cutting off all ties with them. Bilbo didn’t even have the money to get a lawyer, not when he needed to pay rent and buy food.

It wasn’t that hard for Thorin to work his charms to get inside Bilbo’s house. Bilbo didn’t even remember what he said, but he’d gotten himself inside with Bilbo none the wiser on who he really was. He had been slightly older than Bilbo and quite attractive. Before he’d known what Thorin was really like, he had been interested in how he looked. How he would regret that later on.

Thorin had ended up getting his hands on some cookies before he actually bluntly explained to Bilbo what he wanted. Bilbo had been terrified, but he was easily overpowered by Thorin, who explained that the police weren’t going to help him and he should just give up. Bilbo refused and for some reason, Bilbo didn’t know why, Thorin left. The visits and pestering continued until Bilbo finally relented. He had no way to defend himself against an eternally angry Thorin who kept demanding he move in. It didn’t help that he’d lost any good amount of money to the Sackville-Bagginses. If he’d had his family’s money then he would’ve been able to get out easier.

Whenever Thorin stopped by, he hadn’t minded showing off his money. He’d scoffed at what Bilbo owned and promised him better things. He’d held money in front of his face and said he could pack up his bags and leave. Sometimes he’d even brought gifts. Despite his eager to please attitude, he hadn’t hid his impatience.

It wasn’t as though Bilbo hadn’t formed plans of harming Thorin. Oh, the fantasies he’d had of throwing a steaming cup of coffee at his face… But that probably wouldn’t kill him, just make him ready to murder. And if Bilbo were to somehow kill Thorin, he’d have the whole criminal underground of the city after him. Power surrounded him, and more than a few people wouldn’t be too happy about his absence.

Consenting to move to Erebor Estates had been the only decision that he could make and live.

-

The first thing that Bilbo had thought when he got to Erebor Estates was “Who would actually need that big of a house?” Once the initial shock wore off, he realized that he was living there. The house and its numerous other side buildings were spread over acres of land. Thorin’s car had been new as well, but his wealth hadn’t really hit until Bilbo saw his house.

Thorin had cocked his head to the side. “Like it?” There was an almost smug look on his face.

“I have to live here?” He couldn’t believe that this was happening. No one ever expected this to happen in their life.

“Obviously,” Thorin said. He grabbed Bilbo’s suitcase from him. “Here, I’ll carry that for you.”

The opening parlor had a marble floor and a large staircase leading upstairs. A few men were waiting inside dressed in suits smoking. Thorin waved at them and wrapped an around Bilbo’s waist. One of the men, a bald men with arms and a head covered in tattoos, whistled.

“So this is the happy couple!” he called.

Bilbo turned red out of embarrassment. Thorin patted his side, as if that would actually comfort him. They walked up the stairs, with Bilbo’s hand firmly on the stairwell.

“That was a friend of mine,” Thorin said, again failing to comfort him. “He means no harm.”

The hallway was long and covered in rooms. Another stairwell led upwards. Thorin ignored every room and pulled Bilbo up the next flight of stairs. The hall was long, but there weren’t as many doors. A red rug was below their feet, masking the sound of their steps. Thorin’s eyes wondered over Bilbo every few seconds, as though he was scared that he could somehow hide in his own home.

The door at the very end of the house had been Thorin’s. He opened it and led Bilbo inside. It was large, with a large bed on the front and various furniture around the room. There were family portraits on the wall, showing men that resembled Thorin. The walls were painted white and the carpeting was the same color. A door was set off to one side, open slightly to show a bathroom. The dressers were covered in cologne, ties, and various items that Bilbo couldn’t even identify.

“Don’t worry, there’s a spare closet and dresser that you can use.” He placed Bilbo’s small suitcase on the ground. He didn’t know why Thorin took it from him; it had been light since Bilbo hadn’t had much that he needed to take, mostly because Thorin commented that it was junk and he would gladly buy him a new one. It had been headache inducing trying to get his stuff. “I got you some clothes, if you’re worried about that.”

“What?”

“Well it wasn’t hard to get your size.”

On one visit Thorin had looked over Bilbo’s clothes and made rude remarks. That had certainly been a clever way to get his size.

“Are you hungry? My top chef is working downstairs right now. Anything he makes is delicious. He’s the best of the best.”

Bilbo wanted to ask why he wouldn’t be. It wasn’t as though Bilbo couldn’t see that money was no object to him.

Food was one of the only things that brought him any comfort, however, so he consented.

The downstairs kitchen was packed with people working. The smell of food baking hung in the air. Thorin called out to someone, and a fat man came over to them.

“Thorin,” he said, and then looked over to Bilbo. “And?”

“Bilbo,” Bilbo said.

He smiled. “So you’re the one that we keep hearing about! Thorin, you finally got lucky, didn’t you?”

Bilbo had to keep himself from snorting.

“I’m Bombur,” he said. “Thorin, anything that you two want?”

Thorin looked at Bilbo. “He’ll make whatever you want.”

“Well no,” Bombur said. “If you have some wild, exotic dish from halfway across the world in a country that almost no one has ever heard of, then I don’t think I can.”

Thorin tightened his grip on Bilbo’s waist. “Oh don’t worry, I don’t think that he’s had the chance. Why not make him some of your cake?”

Bombur nodded. “Anything else to keep him satisfied while it’s baked and frosted?”

Thorin looked over at him. “Any requests?”

Bilbo’s stomach flopped. “No.”

Bombur nodded. “If you’re sure… I mean, I’d be happy to whip you something up.”

“No thank you.”

“Alright.” He smirked. “Let me guess, you two want some alone time?”

Thorin chuckled and Bilbo wished that a hole would open up in the ground and swallow him.

“Well,” Bombur said, “I won’t keep you waiting. Don’t worry, you’ll have your time together before the cake’s ready.” He left them, and though they were still in the crowded kitchen, it was still just the two of them. Thorin pulled Bilbo out, and again the two were alone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for violence and minor character deaths in this chapter.

Thorin had more people who loved him than he did enemies. On one hand, that was a good thing. It meant there were less people going after Frodo. Bilbo could sleep easily at night knowing that almost no one wanted to use his son as a pawn. On the other hand, he had to deal with the fact that those enemies that Thorin did have were powerful.

However, one of Thorin’s biggest enemies had been shot down by one of Thorin’s many lackeys that day. The man’s name had been Bard or something, Bilbo couldn’t remember. He’d instantly gotten a promotion and Thorin treated him with the utmost respect. Thorin’s enemy, Smaug, was dead. Thorin was especially happy because Smaug had tried, and failed, to take everything Thorin had multiple times. If he’d simply realized that he needed to get out of town after his first failed attempt then he’d probably still be alive that day (if he had a fake ID of course).

A party was being thrown in Bard’s honor. Thorin, despite his rather cold nature, knew how to party. Bilbo was slightly drunk, attached to Thorin’s side, and having a little fun. Thorin wasn’t being as overbearing or sickly sweet as usual, which was always worth being happy about.

One of Thorin’s men, Dori, had taken Frodo to his home to babysit, so Bilbo didn’t have to worry about seeing his father slightly drunk and his Adad making out with him against a wall. Yavanna, Bilbo felt like such a teenager at this damn thing.

Around him were other partygoers. Dwalin and Nori were honestly grinding against each other in plain sight. Bombur was eating away at the snacks. Servants actually looked as though they enjoyed themselves. Fili and Kili were allowed to act their age.

Everything seemed like a dream, a strange, almost happy dream.

Thorin’s lips went from Bilbo’s own to his neck. Thorin was completely sober, so he knew that others could see this. Despite their relationship being obvious to everyone in the house (they were married), Thorin kept most of his touches private. Private didn’t always mean away from people, just to where it wasn’t so obvious. The only thing that people could really see was how close Thorin would stand to Bilbo.

“I haven’t heard you moan like this in a while,” Thorin said. His breath was hot against Bilbo’s neck, though maybe he was imagining it. Everything seemed hotter at this party, and it wasn’t just because of the party. Who thought turning the heat up at this would be a good thing?

“Yes,” Bilbo said.

Thorin began to play with his hands, moving downwards. Bilbo began to moan. He’d always hated how easy it was for Thorin to get that sound out of him.

“We’ll be fucking in no time,” Bilbo said.

Thorin laughed. “Are you interested?”

“Later,” Bilbo said. “I want to party a little longer.”

“Alright,” Thorin said. “I’ll take a rain check on this.”

“Come on, Thorin,” Bilbo said. “Let’s dance.”

“You know I’m awful at that.” His tone was playful.

“Please?” Bilbo asked.

Thorin sighed. “I can’t say no to you, can I?”

They followed after the others around them. They didn’t always match the music, nor did they do everything right. Still, Bilbo knew that this would cause some stories afterwards, and any chance to get away with embarrassing Thorin was worth it.

After they’d danced for a while, Bilbo needed a break. Thorin was more than happy to give him one. None of the rooms on the lowest floor were empty, so Thorin took Bilbo upstairs to a spare meeting room. It was empty, the air of business out of order with the sounds downstairs. Thorin sat down on the couch and Bilbo collapsed on his side, his head landing unceremoniously on Thorin’s lap. Thorin laughed and placed a hand in his curls, and then began running his fingers along Bilbo’s scalp.

“Is it later yet?” Thorin asked.

Bilbo’s head was spinning. “No. I’m tired, Thorin.”

Thorin didn’t protest, just ran his fingers along his scalp, completely satisfied. Bilbo sighed into his jeans.

“Can you go get me some coffee?” he asked.

“Huh?” Thorin asked.

Bilbo repeated his request.

“Why?” Thorin asked.

“I don’t want to go to sleep now. I’m so tired that I can barely keep myself awake. Not only will you be stuck under me, but I’ll fall asleep in a meeting room, a fucking meeting room.”

Thorin chuckled. “Alright, but you better be awake when I come back. Any specific way you want it brewed, sweetheart?”

Bilbo was too tired to care about Thorin using that atrocious (and cheesy) nickname. “I want it black.”

Thorin messed up his hair. “Alright.” Thorin gently picked Bilbo’s head up, moved out, and then placed Bilbo’s head back down on the couch. “Though I do think that it’d be a better idea to sleep off your hangover.”

Bilbo grunted.

“I’ll be back.”

Bilbo was left alone in the office. The white walls and matching colored carpet seemed rather dull and lifeless. There wasn’t much in the room. It was just for business. There was one dartboard on the wall, with a picture of Smaug on it. Maybe they’d take that off, or maybe they’d keep it on. Bilbo didn’t know.

His stomach was bothering him, and though he was tired he forced himself to the bathroom. The ones on the second floor were unoccupied. While he busy vomiting into the toilet, someone else must have learned that fact and decided to skip the line downstairs.

“Need help?” a blond man asked. Though he and Thorin had hair the same length, the way his was held back made him look like a hippie. There was something familiar about him, though Bilbo couldn’t quite place who he was. Considering Thorin’s job, Bilbo saw a lot of different types of people.

“No,” Bilbo said.

The man came over and helped him anyway. Once Bilbo finished retching, he thanked him.

“You really didn’t need to do that, though.”

“I just wanted to help.” He shrugged. “Well, I guess I can’t use that toilet now, can I?”

Bilbo laughed. “No.” He had a horrible headache. “Thank you for this, but I should get going.” He gave directions to the nearest bathroom.

“Thank you,” the man said. “I really do need to go.”

Bilbo couldn’t even tell how he did it. All he remembered was looking at the man one last time and the next moment he saw nothing.

-

When Bilbo had been moved to Thorin’s, he hadn’t had many reasons to be happy. Thorin had jumped through hoops to get a smile on his face, and not wanting to see him angry (no one liked to see Thorin angry), he began to learn how to fabricate the perfect fake smile. Thorin was relieved.

Bilbo tried to make himself happy under the circumstances. It was hard, but he tried to find a little pleasure in things. The food was fabulous, and he could all he wanted when he wanted. He did have nice clothes. Who needed to go to the library when Thorin gave him one? And sometimes the seemingly endless amount of gifts Thorin would get him would include something that he did like.

But that happiness had been rather far and few between. Despite gaining a lot, he also had lots of restrictions. Even then Bilbo had known of his risk of getting harmed and being turned into a pawn. Fearing harm to Bilbo, Thorin had assigned him a bodyguard.

He hadn’t seemed like a bodyguard. With his floppy hat, thin frame (which masked his real strength well), and love for sweets, it was hard to consider him the bodyguard type. The fact that he made little stuffed and wooden toys for some of his brother Bombur’s children didn’t help much. But that didn’t mean Bofur wasn’t capable. Thorin would never assign anyone to Bilbo who wasn’t anything less than what he assumed capable.

He’d been a kind fellow, and always stayed in the distance. After a while, Bilbo had started to talk to him. Despite being surrounded by people, one who was even devoted to him, he was very lonely. If Bofur was going to follow him around all day, then why not at least get to know him a little? He’d seemed nice enough, and he’d actually responded to Bilbo’s questions. Some of Thorin’s men only spoke to him if they accidentally had to.

He hadn’t really known how it had happened. They’d simply been good friends and then they’d become more. It was always a secret, and they rarely did anything together. Still, the thought of Bofur kept Bilbo going on the hard days. And despite their little affection, Bofur was still kind and made the little things count. He spoke softly and kindly, gave Bilbo small gifts, and sometimes let a stray touch happen between the two.

Despite everything, Bofur made Bilbo happy.

Their affair was short lived, however. Thorin found out, and Bofur was the only one punished for it. On one hand, that was good for Bilbo. On the other hand, he lost someone he cared about in one of the cruelest way imaginable.

Bilbo couldn’t even understand why they fought. It was only one fight, but it was heartbreaking. They’d been so happy and then they’d lost even that.

One day Bofur had just been touch starved. He’d taken Bilbo to an empty room for privacy and had been rather demanding. Thorin acted the same way. Bilbo had been with Bofur to escape Thorin, not to see another. He’d refused.

Bofur was stronger than him. He had cornered Bilbo and demanded he do something. Bilbo kept refusing.

Unknown to Bofur, Thorin had come back from work early and had business to attend to in the hall. Bofur may have gotten an easier death if he’d gotten caught by someone else. Instead, Thorin was the one who heard Bilbo beg Bofur to stop and leave him alone.

Thorin had looked murderous at Bofur. “What the hell are you doing? Get away from him!”

Bofur had frozen. He stepped away from Bilbo and held his hands up.

Thorin had reached in his pocket and pulled his cell phone out. He dialed a number and waited. His gaze constantly shifted between Bofur, who he looked at with hate, and at Bilbo, who sent him a look of pity.

“Nori,” Thorin said. “I have some basement business for you.” Then he’d hung up. He glared at Bofur, and then walked over and held him against the wall. He began to break his wrist with one quick stroke of his hand, before Bofur could retaliate.

Bilbo simply stood frozen to the spot he was standing on. He watched Thorin break both of his wrists and kick Bofur in the knees. Once Nori came, Thorin handed the now weakened and pained Bofur over. Nori pulled him away.

Bilbo still hadn’t moved. Thorin walked over and pulled him into an embrace.

“Oh Mahal,” he said. “I can’t believe that I put you through that. Bilbo, I assigned that man to you and he hurt you. You must have been so afraid. Has he been doing this longer? Were you afraid to tell me? Did he threaten you?”

Bilbo made no response. What was there that he could do?

“It doesn’t matter,” Thorin said, and then began to pat him on the back. “You’re safe now. I promise that nothing like that will ever happen to you again. I’ll do better.”

He’d taken Bilbo out for dinner that night, and bought him all the food that he wanted. He didn’t seem concerned at all by the bill, which even for Thorin seemed to be at a ridiculous price to pay. Bilbo had only agreed to go out of fear that he might have heard Bofur’s screams. But that was ridiculous considering the basement walls were sound proof. Still, there was always an off chance.

Bilbo had no idea what happened to the body, but he knew that Bombur wouldn’t smile for many months. It wasn’t as though he could leave though. Thorin liked having a great cook around, and it was well known that anyone who joined the Durins remained with the Durins, at least until they died.

And Thorin was very forgiving. He held nothing against Bombur. The sins of your brother aren’t the sins of yours.

-

Thorin stared down at the photo. Bilbo was passed out at Thranduil’s, tape over his mouth and his legs and arms bound. He could only be thankful that he wasn’t conscious to feel the pain.

Next to him slept Frodo. He made no indication that he was still awake. Quickly, he hid the photo under a book on his nightstand, one too heavy for Frodo to be able to pick up. If he knew what actually happened to his Daddy, not that he simply had to get to get a few things (despite being a master liar that was all he could think of to tell the boy), he would cry his eyes out. Thorin couldn’t bear to see the boy crying, and he knew Frodo would worry. Bilbo loved Frodo. If Frodo were to get upset, even if it were over him, Bilbo would be distraught. And Thorin wouldn’t be able to handle watching his husband worry about his son worry about him.

He leaned down and kissed Frodo’s curls. Thankfully, the boy didn’t stir. Thorin placed an arm over him and then pulled the sheets up closer over them. Frodo had been surprised when Thorin had asked him to sleep with him, but after Bilbo’s sudden kidnapping yesterday night, Thorin hadn’t been able to part with the boy. He’d spent all day with him. With his husband gone, he knew that he at least needed to keep his son safe.

It was going to be a long night. He looked down at Frodo one last time, the boy sleeping peacefully and innocently, and then closed his eyes. Not getting any sleep wasn’t going to help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone really wanted Bilbo to get kidnapped. So I let him get kidnapped.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo learns something.
> 
> Thorin tries to be a good father.

“That was just for show,” Thranduil commented as he removed the tape from Bilbo’s mouth and the rope from around his arms and legs. “A picture is worth a thousand words.” He put the camera down. “Now do you need anything?”

Yes, Bilbo needed something, but he didn’t know what. What were you supposed to say to someone who had just kidnapped you?

Thranduil smirked. “So nothing hurts?”

Bilbo requested medical supplies and food and Thranduil complied, leaving Bilbo behind in a small room. He locks the door behind him. It’s a cage, but like Thorin’s, it’s nice, though much smaller than Thorin’s. There’s a table with some books on it in one corner and a bed in the other. A few patterned rugs are placed on the polished hardwood floor. Bilbo is sitting on a couch in the center of the room. The door to the room is large and made of metal. He couldn’t break out if he tried. There’s another door, a smaller one, which leads to a small bathroom with no mirror.

Thranduil came back a few minutes later with some ointments and a plate of vegetables. He also brought a change of clothes for Bilbo, though it is slightly too big for him.

“Get yourself comfortable,” he said. “If your husband doesn’t comply and give us the money then you’re going to be here for a long time. I’m not one for the hand over the cash or I’ll kill him thing, so you better start getting used to it.” He smirked. “If you need anything, just talk to one of your guards. They’ll be outside the door.” He grinned. “Now eat up and go to sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day for you. There are quite a few questions that I have for you to answer.”

-

He opened the letter with shaking hands.

Bilbo,  
I saw you at the grocery store today. You were counting out exact change. I saw that look on your face when you just barely had enough money. Here’s a little bit attached. Don’t worry about it, just meet me at that coffee shop on Fifth Street tonight at nine. And don’t worry, I’ll pay for your cup.

It wasn’t signed. He paled; while he’d been selecting food to eat, someone had been watching him. It could have been anyone. And someone had just given him a letter and five hundred dollars as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

He went to the police. Over and over he’d explained what happened, but they didn’t do anything. All they did was look at him and repeat that no, there was nothing they could do and that he should go home. He burst out into tears, begged and pleaded with them, and still didn’t even get a single look of pity.

The “date” at the coffee shop didn’t matter. It was well past nine when Bilbo finally left the police station.

And the next day he’d gotten another letter.

Bilbo,  
Don’t you appreciate the money I gave you? I gave you more than enough for food and for you to get something else for yourself. There’s got to be something you want. Don’t worry about the money because I can always give you more.

Why did you go to the police? I’m being nice. That isn’t a crime.

And you missed our date yesterday. I won’t hold it against you as long as you stop by at the same time tonight. Even if things are busy for you right now, you deserve a little break. Please? I’ll even make it quick. Just one cup of coffee, a nice chat, that’s all I want. And if it does take a while, things will end up working out just fine for us. I just know it.

-

Bilbo really had a hang of this whole father business. Frodo had lived with him for over two years and Thorin had never had to do this much for the boy. He had a lot of needs for a little boy.

“Frodo,” he said, rubbing his back, “I am not going to play knight with you any longer if I’m going to be stuck playing the horse.” His back ached. Did Bilbo do this kind of thing for him every day? That took a lot of dedication.

Frodo frowned. “But Adad, we still haven’t beaten the dragon.” He pouted. “Daddy always plays horsie.” Well, that answered his question.

No, his little boy was not crying. He did not make his son cry. “We can’t play knight and horsie because we’re going to go buy some toys! Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Frodo stopped crying. “Really?”

“Really,” Thorin said. He rubbed his back again. Once he got Bilbo back, once Thranduil actually contacted him about Bilbo (so far he’d been totally silent), he would thank him for putting up with all of Frodo’s whims. Buying the boy toys was easy, but being his playmate? “And maybe we can get ice cream.”

Frodo ran up and hugged him. “Thank you, Adad!”

Thorin couldn’t help but smile. He leaned down, despite it hurting his back, and patted Frodo on the head. “You’re welcome, Frodo.”

-

“I can’t tell you much,” Bilbo admitted. He sat in Thranduil’s office, surrounded by images of nature. He’d seen the acts of Thranduil’s men on television, though he’d usually changed the channel. He liked to trick himself into thinking that all was good in the world as long as he didn’t see things like acts of environmental terrorism on the flat screen in his room.

Thranduil sighed. “I’m serious. Give me answers.”

Bilbo sighed. “And I’m telling you, I can’t.”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t.” Bilbo put his face in his hands. “Please don’t hurt me.”

Thranduil said nothing. “Well,” he said, “then you’re going back to your room. Once you’re willing to answer my questions then we can give you a little time out of there.” No, he didn’t want to go back there. It was small and boring, and worst of all, Thranduil was prepared to carry out his threat of keeping Bilbo there for as long as he possibly needed.

“I don’t know much!” He spoke louder than he expected to.

Thranduil blinked at him. “What do you mean?”

“I put my head in the sand.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I know it’s stupid. Thorin is the biggest mob boss in the city, but I like to ignore that. I won’t let him mention work at home. We’ve got more important things to worry about than his job in my opinion, and that really does sound stupid. I just like to worry about our son, our marriage, and all those other little things in life.”

Thranduil smirked. “Oh, so you worry about what he’ll do to you behind closed doors more than his job?”

Bilbo turned red. He wasn’t about to admit the truth. If that happened, he didn’t know what Thranduil would do. And maybe acting like he cared could get him somewhere. Thranduil might use it as an excuse to demand Thorin give him what he wanted.

“I tend to ignore my real problems. It’s not the world’s greatest coping strategy, but it’s better than admitting the truth. If I admitted the truth the stress would probably give me a premature heart attack.” Bilbo chuckled.

Thranduil leaned back against his desk, his blond hair spilling to the sides of his shoulders. “If you hate his job so much then why even stay with him?”

“Because he’s nice. You couldn’t ask for a better husband.”

Thranduil smiled. “Are you sure he’d meet my demands in exchange for your safe returns?”

“If he loves me as much as he says he does then he should. Besides, money’s no object to him. You were in his house; you saw what kind of stuff he owns.”

Thranduil smiled again. “Well, if you can’t tell me things, can you at least look at a few things for me? Perhaps he brought something home one day and you saw it while you were walking past.”

Bilbo opened his mouth to protest, but Thranduil stopped him.

“You might not have even realized it. Just come with me and see if you recognize anything.”

“Alright,” Bilbo said. “But there’s no guarantee that I’ll recognize anything.”

“Would it hurt to try?” Thranduil asked. “Of course not.” He looked Bilbo straight in the eyes. “If you are holding any important information from me and I find out about it, don’t think that I won’t hurt you.” He folded his hands together. “How does two days without food sound?”

“I’m telling you, I don’t want to know important information!”

Thranduil shrugged. “I get it, I get it; you don’t want to know about what that nice man you married actually does. Ah, the joy of true love.”

“Thorin warned me about you!” Bilbo blurted out.

Thranduil raised a blond eyebrow. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“He told me about some of his enemies. You were one of them.” Bilbo groaned. “He figured that eventually something like this would happen.”

Thranduil smirked. “And I’m sure that he made me sound like a demon. Now Mister Durin, we should get going to look at those items. I don’t have all the time in the world.”

It wasn’t a long walk, just down the hallway, and into a guarded elevator. Bilbo guessed that they were in some kind of warehouse, used for undercover operations. Down they went into a basement, Thranduil’s arm firmly looped through Bilbo’s own.

The silence in the elevator was nearly suffocating. Bilbo was sure that Thranduil could hear the fast beat of his heart.

The basement was dark and cold, but when Thranduil flipped a light switch all the lights turned on. It was dim and grey, and around Bilbo stood hundreds of items.

“You can’t possibly expect me to look through all of these in one trip.”

“I don’t,” Thranduil said. “Some of these aren’t even involved with your husband. He isn’t my only problem.”

Thranduil showed him some items. None of them Bilbo had even the foggiest idea about. The man was obviously frustrated with Bilbo’s answers, but it wasn’t as though Bilbo could just suddenly remember something about something he’d never seen before.

“You haven’t seen a single one of these things?” Thranduil asked.

“No.”

He scowled. “Thorin better pay you off. You’re useless. You must really care about him to purposefully ignore that much about him. Are you that desperate for some attention?” The man laughed.

Bilbo clenched his fists together. “If you must know, I just prefer to act as though we have a normal life.”

Thranduil grabbed Bilbo’s hand and pulled off the ring that Thorin had given him. He held it up to the light. “Did you not know about his real business until you were married to him?”

“No.”

Thranduil paused. He hadn’t expected that answer. “So you knew but still married him?”

Because I hadn’t had a choice, Bilbo thought.

“Because I could forgive him for that.”

Thranduil laughed, and handed Bilbo his wedding ring back. “You must be a very forgiving person.” He sighed. “I have no other use for you. I’m taking you back to your room.”

Bilbo put the ring back on his finger. Great, he was going back to that. It seemed his life consisted of him being stuck in one place after the other.

“I won’t punish you.” Thranduil looked down at his feet, an angry expression on his face. “I just wish that you actually knew something.”

Bilbo took one last look at the items and then turned around. “Wait,” he said. He spoke before he even realized it.

“What?” Thranduil asked. His voice was eager.

Bilbo walked over to a boat and looked around at it. It was damaged, with a large hole at the bottom. On the side was the name THE WATER LILLY and spray painted on the side were “I love you Drogo”. Oh, Drogo had hated that his wife had done that… But she’d done it so that they wouldn’t accidentally lose it. They’d always loved being on the water.

“How did you get this?” Bilbo asked.

“We got it about two years ago after an incident,” he said. “How do you even know about this?”

“This was my cousin’s boat.” He looked directly into Thranduil’s eyes. “Why do you have this?”

“Because the boat had been tampered with.”

“You tampered with my cousin’s boat?”

“No!”

Bilbo paled. “Thorin tampered with my cousin’s boat?” He had been excited about adopting Frodo.

Thranduil shook his head. “Have you ever heard of the group called the Orcs? I’m guessing that they owed them some money that they couldn’t pay up. Those poor people. There was no way that they could’ve lived after what the Orcs did.”

-

Frodo was feeling very clingy that night.

“Adad,” he said, “when is Daddy going to be back?”

“Soon,” Thorin lied, though he couldn’t guarantee when.

“I miss him,” he said.

Thorin patted his head. “He misses you too. But he promises that he’ll come back.”

Frodo hugged him. “You aren’t going to leave, are you, Adad?”

“No,” Thorin said with a smile. “I’ll always be here for you.”

Frodo yawned. “Can we play knight tomorrow, Adad?”

Thorin considered saying no, but consented. If Frodo cried again… His back would just have to recover over the night.

After Frodo had fallen asleep next to him, Thorin pulled the envelope out. It came with very specific demands, and if Thorin didn’t meet them then he wouldn’t be allowed to collect Bilbo for another six months.

He had to admit it with a heavy heart, but it was the truth. Thorin was going to have to meet Thranduil’s terms.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I upped the rating just so I could post this chapter.
> 
> Slight dubcon warning

Thorin could trust Dori. He was a good man, though he offered the most disgusting teas. He treated Frodo just like he did his little brother Ori, with the eyes of a hawk and a lot of care. Frodo was busy reading books with Ori on Dori’s couch, eating a cookie. The boy was safe.

But… But he was scared. There could always be someone after him… Losing his Bilbo was terrible, and he didn’t want to imagine losing his little Frodo.

“Be a good boy,” Thorin said before he left. He hugged Frodo.

“I will,” the boy replied. He returned the hug. “I love you, Adad.”

Thorin kissed the top of his head. “I love you, too.”

-

Bilbo groaned. He was going to be here for another six months before Thorin let him out. Six months of being Thranduil’s captive might as well have been a death sentence the way Thranduil did it. Once he discovered about the orcs, Thranduil refused to answer any of his questions, citing the fact that he couldn’t do anything about the orcs now. Primula and Drogo simply had a debt that they couldn’t pay.

He grabbed one of the books and opened it. Thranduil either purposefully was trying to bore him to death or simply had an awful choice in books.

The door to his room suddenly opened. Bilbo’s eyes shot to the clock on the wall. He’d gotten his dinner an hour ago. What would anyone need to come in there now for?

Thranduil smiled at him when Bilbo turned around. “He proved he cared,” Thranduil said. “He just barely reached my deadline. Get ready to go.”

Bilbo leaped up off of the couch. Yes! For once he was going to be glad to see Thorin!

-

When they got into the parking lot, Bilbo saw that they really had been in some sort of company building. Thorin stood outside holding a briefcase. Bilbo ran up to him and wrapped his arms around his neck. Thorin froze before returning the hug.

“Bilbo,” he said, “I’m happy to see you too, but I really need to pay this guy.”

Bilbo released the hug and stepped to his side. He was happy to see Thorin, but he wasn’t actually happy to see him. He was just glad he’d actually picked him up. Besides, Thorin would probably expect more than a hug for doing this.

-

Bilbo was right. After a long drive in silence, they went home. It wasn’t that Bilbo had nothing to say, it was just that he didn’t want to say it. Right then he wanted to forget that everything that Thorin had ever feared had happened to him. Frodo was over at his friend Ori’s house, and was perfectly safe.

Thorin had his hands on Bilbo’s legs as they sat on the edge of the bed and were headed for his zipper. Bilbo put his hand on Thorin’s larger one and stopped him.

“Not so fast,” he said. “We’re not desperate teenagers.”

Thorin nodded, and went at a slower pace. He unzipped slowly, carefully, and then pulled down Bilbo’s pants. He licked his lips.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yes,” Bilbo said.

Thorin pulled down Bilbo’s underwear. “You aren’t looking very excited.”

“I’m not.”

“Why?”

“Thorin, I just got back from being kidnapped.”

Thorin frowned. “Do you want to do this later?”

He shook his head. He just wanted to get this over with.

Thorin grinned. “Oh, I get what you’re after.”

Bilbo put his underwear and pants back on while Thorin removed his own. His normally finely ironed pants lay crumpled on the ground, his underwear on top.

“And don’t bite hard like you did last time,” Thorin said.

Bilbo laughed. “You’ll never let me forget that, will you?”

Thorin was excited. His cock was sticking straight up, and he was getting ready to release at any second. Bilbo quickly got down on his knees and leaned down. Thorin released in a second and Bilbo’s mouth was filled. He began to swallow and Thorin began to moan.

“You’re not biting,” he said. “Good.”

Bilbo began to lick him clean. Thorin grinned.

“Tastes good, doesn’t it?”

Bilbo finished and then sat up. An erection had formed and he decided to let Thorin return the favor, which Thorin was all too happy to comply with.

Bilbo was a tiny man, and all of his body reflected that. Thorin easily got his cock in his mouth. It took a little longer for Bilbo release than he wanted to, but he got it out. Thorin eagerly licked him clean.

When they finished, Thorin still had a little mess on the side of his lips. He licked it away. “Bilbo,” he said seriously, all former happiness gone, “after what happened, I will do anything to make up for it. Is there anything that you really, desperately want?”

It was always like this. Something awful would happen and the only answer would be to get him some material possession. Oh, there were a few things that came to mind, but none of them mattered. For once he wanted answers.

“Thorin,” he said. “Who are the orcs?”

Thorin looked away from him. “Why do you want to know?”

“It’s a long story,” he said. “But that’s what I want. Can’t you tell me?” He removed Thorin’s hand from his leg. “All I want is an answer. Is that too much to ask for?”

Thorin released a sigh. “My problems with them began the day I shot an albino in the arm.”

Now Bilbo really was happy to be with Thorin. He sat back and waited for all Thorin had to say. Something told him that this was going to be quite a longer story than the reason that Bilbo wanted to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Bilbo is happy to see Thorin so he can get away from Thranduil, but he isn't actually happy to be back with Thorin.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are revealed.

Really, if he had wished for anything different about his life, it was that it was a little less violent. He hated it. He knew his husband didn’t believe him when he told him that. Thorin was by no means a pacifist. However. There was no joy he felt in killing people. At least not usually. Knowing that man, Bofur was his name or maybe some other strange name along those lines (Thorin doesn’t care about those minor details too much), got what he deserved for what he did to Thorin’s husband gave him a thrill. The man got what he deserved. But most of the time it was just business, a means to an end. His job involved a lot of violence, some leading to death and some that didn’t.

Violence just wasn’t a pretty sight. He was desensitized to it, but he still didn’t want to see it more than he had to. Thorin knew that the world was a bad place, and that was why he preferred to keep Bilbo in the dark as much as he possibly could.

But this was his request, and he knew that he’d hate him if he didn’t at least give him a little information. After everything that he’d gone through he deserved to know.

“The orcs are a ragtag group,” Thorin admitted, stopping from his story. It was strange, going into great detail over a night that he preferred not to remember. His enemy was supposed to be dead, but recent reports showed that he was likely still out there. That, Thorin thought, was something that Bilbo didn’t need to know. He didn’t need to know absolutely everything; he was stressed enough as it was. “I’m surprised that they’ve been able to keep themselves together, though I think that might have to do with the fact that they have some helpers called the wargs. They aren’t really an organization, more of their trump cards when things get tough. Their numbers are starting to run low, however.” He placed a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder. “Why are you worried about them? Why do you need to know about the day that my grandfather, father, and little brother died so badly?” Images flickered through his minds, images which he’d been trying to hide for years. “What would ever make you care about the orcs?” This he wanted to know. And he’d been sure that he’d never even heard the name, at least not when it wasn’t on accident.

“Thranduil tried to get me to identify some objects.” He took a deep breath and then exhaled. His hands were shaking slightly and Thorin wrapped his much larger ones around Bilbo’s owns. For a few moments the shaking continued before stopping.

“Did you?”

Bilbo shook his head. “I didn’t recognize a thing.”

That was good. “Then what got you concerned?”

“An item that I wasn’t expected to recognize.” His hands started to shake again and he began to sob. “Thorin, I saw their boat. Drogo and Primula got killed by orcs.” His entire body began to shake and Thorin pulled him into his chest. “The orcs killed Frodo’s parents!”

For a moment Thorin just tried to reassure him. He refused to think about what it actually meant. No, his son’s other parents did not die by orcs. It was just a boating accident.

He almost asked if Bilbo was speaking the truth, but stopped himself. Why wouldn’t he be? This wasn’t something that someone lied about.

He wished again that his life was less violent. Surely normal people didn’t worry about their family members dying by a planned attack rather than a tragic accident. But Drogo and Primula had seemed so normal. Thorin never would have guessed that they were actually involved at least in some way with underground activities. That must have been quite a debt to make the orcs trash their boat rather than simply shooting them. Had they wanted to make a statement? If they had, they’d failed and just gotten to people killed. Or they really could have just wanted the two dead. Thorin wouldn’t be surprised if a member of orcs, or a number of them, wanted that.

Bilbo continued to cry, the only sound leaving his mouth hiccupping sobs. He collapsed into Thorin’s arm like a wet spaghetti noodle and clung to him.

Thorin kissed the top of his head and held him tighter. “Bilbo,” he said. “How would you feel if I had their group wiped out? They really aren’t very stable. Though they’re strong, their dependency on raiding on others causes them more harm than good. I could have them all helpless and broken up, or even all dead if you wanted them to be. In fact, I wouldn’t mind them dead. They’re a group of dirty bastards.”

Bilbo began to wipe away at his tears. The front of Thorin’s shirt was wet, but he could have cared less at the moment. He began to rub his hand over Bilbo’s back. “I promise that they’ll regret ever harming your cousin and his wife.”

Bilbo stopped sniffling for a moment. “Really?”

“Really.”

“I thought you hated violence.”

“I do, but I will use it when needed.”

-

Frodo wrapped his arms around Bilbo, and Thorin couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Daddy, you’re back!” The smile that spread across Frodo’s face was perhaps the largest, most genuine one that Thorin had ever seen in his life.

“Of course I am!” He hugged Frodo back. “Why wouldn’t I be? Didn’t Adad say that I’d be coming back?”

“I know that I did.” Thorin said. He walked over and joined the hug. Dori and Ori had left the room, Dori promising his little brother some new yarn. The little boy had followed him happily, leaving the three alone.

-

Bilbo looked around him, wrapping his jacket around him tighter. Being out in public should have made him feel safer, but it did the opposite effect. At least he felt some bits of comfort in his home, but out in public he was a stranger to everyone around him. Thorin could hide among the crowd anonymously and sneak up and find Bilbo. Already he was having nightmares about Thorin coming to get him. The bags under his eyes served as proof that they were bothering him.

He continued looking around. Maybe if he just spotted long dark hair first then he could at least find a place to hide in.

But wouldn’t Thorin find him there too? He had connections and Bilbo barely had enough money to pay off his rent.

You’re so paranoid lately, he thought bitterly.

But then again, didn’t he have a damn good reason to be?


End file.
